


Sleep

by DancingTheWrongWay



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Feels, Insomnia, M/M, Mild unintentional violence, Sex kind of, Sleep, Sorted, ben ebbrell - Freeform, mike huttlestone - Freeform, sorted fanfic, sorted food fanfic, sortedfood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:24:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4045813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingTheWrongWay/pseuds/DancingTheWrongWay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I haven't slept in days.” Mike's usual velvety voice was now riddled with gravel and other rough sounding things. “I've lost count how many. This always happens. Every night is a struggle for sleep, but sometimes it never comes at all and I feel like I'm going crazy. Then, even if I DO sleep, all I have are these terrible nightmares.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "Sleep" by Mike Huttlestone 
> 
> My love and gratitude to [Caitlinamylaura](http://enterprisingyoungmind.tumblr.com) for keeping me sane.

It had been raining for three straight days when Mike appeared, soaking wet, at Ben's front door.

“I couldn't sleep,” was all he said.

Ben had more questions than answers as he let the man in, realising that he must have walked well over an hour to get there. He wordlessly ushered Mike into the bedroom, where he began taking off his wet clothes, layer by layer, until he was standing there, shivering and naked.

“Get into bed, you crazy, rain-walking muppet. I'll bring you some tea." He paused. "You probably haven't eaten a thing today, have you?” He didn't wait for Mike to answer. He just shooed him toward the bed before making his own way to the kitchen. The clock on the wall read 10:48pm. He knew this would probably be all Mike would eat today, so he tried to make it good. After some fussing, he returned with a tray of warmed leftover blackcurrant scones and chamomile tea with just a few leaves of homegrown mint tossed in.

Mike looked at the food and groaned.

“You have to at least try to eat it," Ben prompted softly. "You'll be lucky if you don't wake up sick in the morning, walking outside in the cold and the wet like you have. I have to take care of you if you won't do it on your own.”

Begrudgingly, Mike pulled apart a scone and chewed, suddenly realising he was starving. Ben's cooking always seemed to have that effect on him. He would go days forgetting to eat if it weren't for Ben.

After he'd undressed himself and climbed into bed beside him, Ben kissed Mike's temple as a silent “thank you” for not worrying him further by not eating or drinking. Once the food was mostly gone and the tea had time to take its drowsy effect, he reached out and pulled Mike into his arms.

“Now then, darling. Tell me what has you so upset tonight?”

“I haven't slept in days.” Mike's usual velvety voice was now riddled with gravel and other rough sounding things. “I've lost count how many. This always happens. Every night is a struggle for sleep. Sometimes it never comes at all, and I feel like I'm going crazy. Then, even if I DO sleep, all I have are these terrible nightmares.”

“Like what?” Ben asked.

Mike sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “Just bad things. Terrible things. Things happening to me. To you. Sometimes the whole world. Like people and places I love just get swallowed up into some kind of black hole, as if they never even existed to anyone but me.” There was more. There was a lot more, but he hated talking about it. He dreaded telling Ben about the things that come after him in his dreams, far too much to risk speaking them to life with words.

Somehow, Ben still knew there was more that Mike wasn't telling him, however he knew better than to hound Mike with too many questions. Not when he was like this. All he could do was hold him close and stroke his hair, and do everything he could to make him comfortable. He talked quietly about inconsequential things like the goings on of his brothers and parents. He droned on about travel books he'd read recently and various cooking technique texts he'd picked up.

Just as Ben had hoped, Mike began drifting off to sleep in his arms. He had almost begun to think that Mike was going to sleep soundly through the night when suddenly he breathing began to change, coming heavier and faster. He whimpered softly and twitched under the covers.

Ben tried shushing him, softly running his hand over his neck and back, but Mike couldn't seem to hear him. He thrashed around, his left hand catching Ben's arm. Fingernails sunk straight into Ben's flesh, driven by the strength of all the fear in Mike's mind. Mike's fingernails began to pull at the skin they gripped tightly. Blood pooled around Mike's fingertips and Ben bit his lip hard to keep from making a sound. He tried carefully to free himself and lift away Mike's clutching hand, but he immediately realised this was a mistake.

All the rage that had built up in these times of sleeplessness broke through the dam of fear and unleashed itself. Mike's hand yanked from Ben's grasp and a fist came down hard on Ben's jaw. Ben squeezed his eyes closed and prepared himself as Mike's hand pulled back and slammed down on his face again and again, bruising his flesh and splitting his lip.

Ben finally called out, “Mike, it's me! It's Ben. You're safe. I have you.”

Mike's eyes flew open and he saw the horror of what he had done. He reeled back on his knees to the foot of the bed, covering his face with both hands. “Oh Ben! What have I done? Why didn't you... How could I... What the fuck am I?” Ben sat up and reached out to take Mike's hand but he yanked it away, still afraid of something, if not himself. He stood and began pacing the room looking for his wet clothes, which lay still soaked on the bedroom floor.

“I can't stay.”

“The only way you could really hurt me is by leaving,” Ben whispered.

“Look at you!" Mike shouted. "I've scratched you like some wild animal and beat you! You're probably going to have two black eyes in the morning and God only knows what else, and it's my fault!”

“What, this? It's nothing. Mike, all the blood in my body is just a drop in the ocean of what I'd give for you.”

Mike stood in stunned silence.

 “Now, please, come back to bed.”

“Ben, I would never...” Mike began, but Ben raised a finger to his lips.

“I know. Of course I know. Darling, you would never in a million years hurt me. I know. I'm not afraid. It wasn't you who did this. It was whatever it is in your dreams that's haunting you. Tormenting and torturing you. And I hate it as much as you do.”

“No one has ever understood me like you do,” Mike said, bewildered, making his way back into bed, albeit shakily.

“I'd do anything for you, Mike. I mean it. My life. My everything. It's all yours really. What good is any of it without you?” Ben sat up and turned to face Mike. “I remember as a very young child, I didn't understand entirely the whole 'liking boys' thing. It didn't fit in with the way my brothers were. Not that my family has been against any of it, but I'm talking about before I could even understand it for myself. I just assumed I'd spend my life alone. Maybe I'd have a friend or two that I'd keep close at hand, but I didn't think of them as anyone to fall in love with and spend a life with. I thought that my dad didn't marry a boy, so certainly I couldn't, right? Of course, I realised when I got older I just liked boys instead of girls. Simple. But for some reason, I still always thought I'd spend my life alone. That was because I hadn't yet realised something yet - It's one thing to be gay. It's another thing to be gay and have some kind of emotional derailment when it comes to getting personally close to someone. I've struggled all my life with forming personal emotional bonds. It's no surprise at all that my friends now are the same friends I've always had, I rarely made new ones. And then there's you. You're the most unlikely of schoolmates to even notice I even existed. You're a relic of that young confusion. You come around to be my best friend and the absolute love of my life and ever since you came into my life, I've practically been a normal person.”

“Well, let's not get too carried away. Normal? You?”

Ben laughed, “Right, right. But it's true. Well, mostly. I am who I am largely because of you. And I love you for it. I love so many things about you, it would take me weeks to list them all.” He smiled and reached out a hand. This time Mike took it. “I think I know why you can't sleep.”

“Why?”  
   
“Because you put on this show. This act of having commitment issues, as well as your supposed allergy to obligation. Every relationship you've ever been in has played along. I've seen it so many times. Girls, boys, whoever. They all keep a certain distance, making sure not to crowd you or smother you. They're always so terrified of being that one who was too needy or too clingy, and that you would break up with them because of it. In the end, you're the one who gets your heart broken. Every time. You go to bed in someone's arms and you wake up alone with a note on the pillow. So many times that you're afraid to sleep now. The devils in your head fight you every time you close your eyes, reminding you of that pain and loneliness you feel every time someone you fall in love with decides you're not the one. So you stay awake.”

“What are you saying, Ben?”

“I'm saying to hell with with your stupid act. You have me and I'm not letting go of you. Ever. Go ahead and try and tell me I'm smothering you. Fine. You have your own place. But I'm not buying this fear of commitment. It's fear of failing, and I simply won't let you fail. You've done nothing but raise me up in life. You give me this confidence that I never used to have. I'm going to be the one who never lets you fall behind, because I need you. And whether you like or not, you need me, too. You need someone to hold you at night who promises they'll still be there in the morning. Mike...”

“Don't say it. You can't promise,” Mike said through shaky tears that had started to fall.

Ben's voice was soft, yet resolute. “I can't promise I'll be there with you every night of our lives. But I can promise that wherever I might be, it's you I'm waking up for. I'll be waking up to get through whatever day brings me closer to getting back to you.”

Mike was crying openly now, and reached a hand out to touch the drying blood on Ben's chin from his split lip. “You're a mess. We should clean you up.”

The clock on the nightstand read 12:58am. Ben smiled. “We can take a shower together in the morning. If it scars, then good. Maybe it'll make me look tougher.”

 “Than what? A spongecake?”

 Ben giggled and flung his pillow at Mike's shoulder before reaching out and tugging him into his arms, coaxing him to lie on top of him where they kissed and intertwined their bodies.

The four walls of Ben's bedroom have seen and heard so much over the years. They have echoed with their voices in moans and cries of ecstasy and screams of pure pleasure and pain, though if you asked them, the walls would tell you they couldn't tell the difference. They have echoed their voices of laughter and tears and even the shouts of a fight or two. Or three.

That night the walls were hushed like freshly fallen snow dampening the soft sounds of sighs, breaths, and the gentle rustle of sheets. If you asked the walls about that night, they'd simply say they turned their backs and absorbed every kiss and whispered confession of love and devotion. It's completely possible that the entire room did shudder and shiver all at once with their simultaneous climax, and remembered the sounds of that shared orgasm as a single entity. Perhaps the walls even watched, as Ben did, when Mike licked his abdomen clean of his pooling release, as he lay filled with Mike's own love.

If you asked the walls about that night, they wouldn't tell you even if they could talk. The only thing they might say is that it was the night when Mike finally went to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment here or come visit me @ [dancingthewrongway on tumblr!](http://dancingthewrongway.tumblr.com)


End file.
